


Always Knew

by Ally_Futuras



Series: Elysium [2]
Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Feels, Fun Drabble, I should be working on my other projects, Sweet, idk - Freeform, song prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally_Futuras/pseuds/Ally_Futuras
Summary: So many things he loved. So many damn things he still wished he knew.
Relationships: Dante & Kat (DmC), Dante & Vergil (DmC), Dante/Kat (DmC)
Series: Elysium [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429837
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Always Knew

He enjoyed her company. It was as simple and complicated as that.

There were many things he liked about her. He liked the way she bit her lip while reading one of her books. The way she tapped her arm precisely three times whenever she felt scared or uneasy. He liked how she’d enter their shared living room in the morning with her hair in knots but blushed a bright pink if she’d burped a little too loud during lunch.

He liked how she seemed to know a bit about everything. What plant was poisonous if mixed with a concoction, the basics of hacking into a security camera or how to manage a washing machine. Somehow, Kat never ceased to impress or amaze him. She was his best friend. His only friend.

And although he knew most of the things he enjoyed about her, Dante did not know _everything_.

If he made a list of all the questions he had for her, Dante would keep writing right into the abyss. There were so many things he wished to learn from her. What was she like as a child? Did she always have such a gentle nature? How was she so cultured? Did he truly annoy her or was she joking most of the time?

Sometimes, he wondered, perhaps he was only searching for the answers of his own personal being. His life, once lost and at last being found. Or so he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kat joked suddenly, startling Dante. Turning, he noticed how damp her hair had become. Her eyes crinkled as a steady drizzle of rain splashed softly against her face. The sweet, timid smile ever so present as she spoke, “Or is the lock stuck again?”

The keys in his hands felt slippery as Dante registered back from his thoughts. At this rate, he might as well daze off in the middle of a fight. Dante gave a sly grin to the young woman in response, “Maybe I just like seeing your hair wet, hmm?”

Even while climbing up the two stories of stairs to their home, Dante couldn’t empty his mind. His thoughts persisted, continuously returning to his initial dilemma. He would surely like to know when the young woman had crawled under his skin so intensely. If only he could pinpoint the very second, maybe he would have a chance at avoiding his current emotional trouble. Then again, would he _truly_ want to avoid this warm sensation within his very soul?

Probably not.

Yet all his questions remained.

At times, it was impossible for Dante to picture Kat as anyone other than herself. What kind of sister would she have made? Daughter? Mother? Did she have any family left at all? Did she remember them or was she just as lost as he was?

If he began with any of those questions, Dante would blow his own brains out.

So he began small. Innocent questions just for her.

“What’s your favorite color,” he asked her that night over a cup of tea. It was one of her favorite things to make on cold, rainy nights. It gave her a sense of normality, she told him once. Dante was never a big fan, but if his drinking it made her happy, he was more than glad to surrender a few sips.

Kat searched the cabinets for their only other mug, preparing her own drink. She didn’t seem incredibly surprised but still shot him a strange look. Dante watched her hands closely. They were something he was fond of. The power they unknowingly held. She had settled on a unique set of runes on each hand to go along with her vague henna designs. Her knuckles, now inked with such delicate patterns, Dante could gaze at all day. He thought they looked lovely. They fit her perfectly.

Thinking over her options, Kat held her warm mug against her belly, calmly leaning back on the counter. Dante would give up his own blood to know what she was thinking of in that moment. Luckily for him, he wouldn’t have to. A gentle smile appeared on her lips as always before she spoke, “Yellow. Golden almost, like the sun, or my mother’s garden. Yours?”

Dante bit his lip while in thought, glancing over to the young witch and studied her own eyes. He enjoyed just how pristine and elegant they looked as the dim light within the room softened her gaze, the gentle glow kissing her skin gracefully. She was tired, frightfully so, but looked just as beautiful as ever. The hunter answered smoothly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward, “Green.”

“A nice color.” Kat answered amusingly, sitting comfortably across from him.

“It’s calming.” Dante defended, grabbing her free hand. Like a child in search of sweets. No matter the weather, her hands were always so chilly and fresh. Sometimes he wondered whether she was born with such cold skin or it was only the rainy season. He contemplated his next question. Dante wanted to know more about her childhood, though he didn’t dare venture into the more sensitive topics of her past. “Do you have a favorite bird?” he finally asked, his head hardly tilting upward as he spoke, and his tea long forgotten.

She watched as he fiddled with her fingers, memorizing every scar and design across her hand. Kat didn’t mind. They had become comfortable enough with one another that his actions hardly surprised her anymore. “A robin,” she tells him, taking a small sip from her mug, “I was a little girl, I didn’t know any better, and it flew away.”

That made Dante smile. “I can picture you with a Robin,” he joked easily. He could almost imagine her as a little girl. Scraped up knees and flowers in her hair. Would they have been friends if they’d met as children? Dante wished he could say they would. But then again, he had been quite problematic in his youth.

She’s almost finished her tea when she speaks again. Their kitchen is so cold that Dante can see the warmth escape her mouth, and he can’t help but wonder if her lips would taste as sweet as her drink. “Do you prefer the night or daytime?”

“Daytime,” he admits, his fingers now running along the designs of her palm, “When I was a kid, on nights I couldn’t sleep, I’d stay awake long enough to watch the sunrise. Sleep until the afternoon. Something about the light, it made me feel… _safe_.” Until that moment, he had long forgotten those days from when he was a boy. Yet another long-forgotten memory. Something he had told no one of before. Something from inside of him.

Somehow, she knew he meant the days after being separated from his family. And somehow, Dante was sure she would understand. She would understand his pain, his _fear._ It was simply the way they were. They understood and comforted one another when needed.

They both have their heads resting pleasantly against the kitchen table, both drinks long since finished and long forgotten. Dante continues to play with the young woman’s hands and she entwines her own fingers with his. Their entire day was long and tiring, but those delicately precious moments made it all worthwhile to each of them.

Kat’s voice is gentle, drunk on the desire of sleep but unwilling to give in, “Do you ever wonder what could have been, if something in your life happened differently?”

He’s thrown off by her question, and Dante isn’t sure whether it’s the seriousness of her words or the sweetness of her voice to blame.

If things had happened differently, Dante would be gambling on the chance of ever meeting his friend. The thought terrifies him. He shakes his head lazily, his eyes gazing upward to admire her, “Not so often anymore. Do you?”

She shrugs, the most delicate of smiles gracing her lips, “Not so often anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> So maybe I should be working on my other projects instead of this. So what? It's been a while since I posted something smaller and simple.
> 
> Technically this "one shot" was originally supposed to be longer (hence why I hadn't posted it) but I realized I really liked the way that final piece of dialogue brought it to an end so smoothly. I might or might not continue/finish with a second and final chapter to this lovely piece. Let me know what your thoughts on that are. 
> 
> Questions or comments, please leave whichever you please. Have a great day/night!!


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